


Ignite

by varooooom



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Incest, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-24
Updated: 2012-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varooooom/pseuds/varooooom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgana thinks perhaps this is it for them. Perhaps this is all they'll ever have. Perhaps this is all they'll ever need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ignite

**Author's Note:**

> Modern!AU. Shameless PWP, because sometimes you just need some good sexin's. There's some fluff in there if you squint.

Morgana watches smoke rise in a steady plume, stark white against the darkness of the night sky before dissipating into nothingness. She inhales. Exhales. Watches it rise again. Over and over, smiling contentedly to herself.

Nights like these are usually her favourites. Standing on the balcony with nothing but a lit fag and the crisp air nipping at her skin playfully, causing her hair to stand on end and her nipples to perk up proudly. Naked at the top of the world, thirty floors above the sea of lights that make up London but the brightest of them all is the shine in her eyes as she watches the ash of her cigarette fall into a crystal tray. She blows another steady stream of smoke, exhaling deeply until there's not a whisper left, and the sound of footsteps creeps up from behind.

"I told you to put on some clothes," Arthur chides, and she turns to smirk a little, watching as his eyes trail to the bright red that always stains her lips. It's his favourite colour. He hates her for it.

"And _I_ told you not to tell me what to do, little brother," she chimes smoothly in response, taking another drag and tilting her head back to breathe it straight up towards the sky. The moon pales in comparison to the gleam of her skin as she leans against the railing and dares the stars to outshine her. Arthur has told her they never will. She loves him for it.

He gives a lofty sigh and retreats back into the master bedroom of the Pendragon penthouse, leaving her to smile victoriously and turn towards her adoring crowd, the endless traces of life down below, glowing ever faithful. Yes, she rather enjoys quiet nights like these, because they remind her of the simplicity of the things they do not know. Life outside of their lives, where Morgana can smoke naked and Uther cannot call her a filthy witch and Guinevere will not fret about her and Arthur can wrap her in a satin bedsheet, kissing her neck before sweeping her off her feet. She laughs cheerfully, making certain to drop her fag in the tray before he carries her away. He throws a fit when she leaves them on the floor and won't let her over until she swears not to do it again. Promises never last. They've long since accepted that.

The distance from the balcony to the King's bed is maybe ten steps, but Morgana wraps her arms around Arthur's neck all the same, reveling in the closeness even as the sheet between them warms her chilled skin. He lays her down gently on the right side of the bed, delicately as though she's made of porcelain (he once told her he'd thought her a doll as a child and she smiled a mile wide so he never said it again), and she doesn't release him, tugging him down with her to capture his lips in her own. He sighs into it and meets her tongue eagerly before pulling away.

"I don't want to wake the idiot."

Morgana looks to her right where Merlin is monopolising the left side of the bed, sprawled out with his own sheet wrapped haphazardly about his waist, blissed out of his mind for the past hour or so. She turns back and laces her fingers behind his neck, brow quirked and lips more than inviting.

"Then don't wake him."

There's a challenge in her voice and that's all he needs to hum thoughtfully, eyes narrowing just a little because she knows all of his weaknesses and isn't ashamed to exploit each and every one, and she's likely the biggest of them all. Which is why, when she holds open the sheet, Arthur only sighs once before climbing in after her, sliding between her thighs and bracing his arms on either side of her head, the sheet sliding along his back to pool around their hips. He warms her with his chest instead, pressed flush against her until gold and ivory blend to form their own brand of sin, something delightful and learned a thousand times over under a hundred different sheets and the same night sky. The only constant in their tumultuous lives; the endless expanse of deep dark nothing and each other.

Arthur kisses like every second is something precious to be cherished and remembered. Morgana kisses like every second is their last but you'll still feel it in the morning. She doesn't understand the difference, considering she's the one that taught him, but she doesn't complain when he brushes a hand into her hair and pulls her against him, lips warm and pliant. Where Morgana has always been the one to keep Arthur grounded during Uther's less-than-shining moments, Arthur has always made her feel like something special, unique and brilliant and loved. It's likely what got them in this mess in the first place. She doesn't complain about that either.

After a few moments of kissing like lovers, she pulls him down and turns them into fighters, sucking on his tongue and teething his lower lip until their breath comes ragged and hot between them. She squeezes her thighs around his waist and rolls on top of him, sitting up to pin him against the bed with her hips, grinding downwards against his slowly filling cock. His head tilts back against the pillows in a silent moan and she grins, reminding him of the game. He just shakes his head with an amused smile and pulls her back down into another heated kiss, hands splayed across her shoulder blades and sliding down, thumbing at her nipples, sliding down, gripping her hips tightly, sliding _down_.

She's the one that ends up waking Merlin when Arthur slips a finger between her legs and her breath hitches into a soft cry, jerking upright and throwing off the covers. He blinks awake with an incoherent mumble and Arthur laughs, deep and throaty, and pulls him into a kiss while _still fingering her_ , the smug bastard. Merlin catches on and breaks away from the kiss to slide one of his own long, slender fingers beside Arthur's, and Morgana cries out again, rolling her hips in time with their pumping. He'd never been with a woman before her. Arthur walked him through it (' _though don't ever expect any other woman to be like her, she's a particular sort of creature,_ ' and she would've smacked him if she weren't otherwise preoccupied with coming loud enough to wake the neighbours - if they had any neighbours) and he picked the art up unprecedentedly fast. Arthur's kisses are precious, Morgana's kisses are frivolous, but Merlin's?

Merlin is nothing short of magical.

She was close to distraught (not that she voiced such; not that she even needed to) when Arthur found him by chance and fell head over heels in a matter of minutes. For as long as either of them can remember, after Uther took custody of her, the only thing they had was each other, and that hadn't changed when they were told of their true relationship. It was too late by then. Morgana loved Arthur on a level that cannot be explained, and he cherishes her more than anything else in all the world. Cherished. Before Merlin. She was jealous, and Arthur knew outright. A year-long fallout and one ill advised drunken mishap later, Arthur realised he could never love one more than the other, but they could love each other equally. They could love each other more than anyone has ever loved anyone else. Merlin, being the romantic of the trio, likes to call Morgana and Arthur soulmates where he and Arthur are two sides of the same coin and he and Morgana are bound by something deeply rooted in the earth.

The other two just laugh; they don't know _what_ it is, only that it's fucked up, unhealthy, and they wouldn't trade it for anything in all the world.

Morgana starts breathing in solely gasps and shivers, and takes that as her cue to snake a hand into Merlin's hair and pull him up into a kiss. He straddles Arthur's waist facing her and adds another of his fingers just as Arthur pulls his out in favour of grabbing the lube on the nightstand. Morgana can tell the precise moment when Arthur starts working Merlin open from the way his tongue slips from hers and he ends up biting down on her lip instead to stifle a shout, not hard enough to draw blood but enough so to leave marks. She smooths her tongue across it with a sly smile, then bites down on the sensitive part of his neck in retaliation, leaving nothing to hide his unabashed cry. They move in tandem with each other for what feels like an eternity: Merlin fingering Morgana, Morgana stroking Arthur, and Arthur fingering Merlin. It's too much, too hot, _not enough_ and then everything happens all at once.

Merlin pulls his hand free to wrap his arm around Morgana and turn her around and lay her back against Arthur's chest, kissing him messily as Morgana leaves her mark across Merlin's collarbone and Arthur slicks up his cock. They don't bother with condoms anymore. There is nothing and never will be anything outside of the three of them - not anymore. Morgana grips Merlin's hips to guide him back, slowly easing him down on her brother's prick until he's bottomed out. Arthur grips her hips in turn and whispers silly nothings (' _beautiful, you're so beautiful,_ God, _fuck_ ') in her ear as he slides her down onto Merlin's cock, whose arms immediately start shaking beside Arthur's head.

Too much stimulation all at once, and Morgana feels dizzy with it. Arthur's steady hands, Merlin plunging deep within, and a steady, methodical thrusting from all three of them that has them gasping and moaning over each other. Dizzy, _it feels too good_ , and the entire world blinks out and leaves them alone until the lines that separate them blur together and one can't be told from the other and then there's nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing but "I love you" whispered on someone's breath.

They don't know who comes first - rarely ever do when they go at it like this - but Merlin is _always_ the first to fall asleep, and he curls right back up on the left side of the bed with Arthur tucking the same sheet around him after cleaning him up. Morgana watches him move about with a fond smile on her lips. Despite being younger than her, Arthur has always taken care of her, of _everything_ , from placating Uther to soothing Morgana's episodes to keeping Merlin safe, all on top of rising to the top of his field and conquering everyone's expectations of him. She wonders if he isn't actually superhuman, perhaps some sort of angel or a god (which she'll never tell him, God forbid his ego get any worse).

But when he finishes his habitual clean up and crawls into the center of the bed, kissing Merlin on the cheek once before turning out the last light, Morgana swears he glows gold in the moonlight. Merlin is magic, and she's a goddess, but Arthur is the thread that ties them all together. The Sun at the center of the universe, bright enough to destroy planets but gentle enough to wrap everyone he touches in a loving warmth. Comfort. Home.

He pulls her to his side, her head resting on his shoulder and fingers feathering through the light hair on his chest as he pulls another sheet on top of them. When she kisses his neck softly, he cranes his neck to look down at her with a quirk of his lips.

"What?"

She smiles, closes her eyes. "Nothing."

And as she falls asleep to the sound of Arthur's heartbeat, Morgana thinks idly that no matter what may come, when the flames stop burning and the smoke clears, the stars will come out and they will find each other underneath the night sky. Unwavering. Absolute. _Maybe this was destiny._


End file.
